


Dog Biscuits and Desk Chairs

by misura



Category: Hidden Legacy Series - Ilona Andrews
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-04 09:12:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12767751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Bug blew a raspberry. "Some people like Leif Magnusson movies.""My sisterlovesLeif Magnusson movies," Bern said.





	Dog Biscuits and Desk Chairs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pameluke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pameluke/gifts).



> vaguely set in between the first and second book
> 
> rated for Bug's language

"Good day, bad day, normal day," Bug said, not turning around. There were nearly two dozen monitors in front of them, all showing different parts of town.

Bern thought he recognized several of them, although he had no idea why they would be of any particular interest today. Maybe he should look into it later, see if it was relevant to anything Nevada was working on - _and piss off Rogan for meddling?_

Nevada wouldn't mind, probably, and she _was_ his cousin, while Rogan was just - _let's see, my cousin's boyfriend, my boyfriend's boss, and an all around scary badass. Hm._

Bug turned and threw something at him. Bern dodged. Napoleon yipped and jumped, snatching the something from the air just before it landed. "I asked you a question, dick fucker."

_Guess it was a dog biscuit._

"Hey, Bug." Bern dropped his backpack on the floor. He didn't mind the weight, but for sake of convenience, as well as several of his fellow students he'd seen struggling to stay upright by the end of the day, he wished more of his professors would use the digital blackboard and publish their articles on-line, rather than handing out copies or, even worse, expecting students to copy them for themselves at the library.

There was always a line in front of the copy machine, and to add insult to injury, the machine itself nearly qualified as an antique, with a paper-per-second ratio that would make anyone weep.

"My name is Abraham," said Bug. "And I had an excellent day, thanks for asking, fart face."

Napoleon sat up, expression hopeful. An annoyed Bug was a Bug who threw dog biscuits.

"Abe, then," Bern said, knowing full well how fond Bug was of his given name. Unless it was Rogan talking, naturally, but then, Rogan was Rogan. "And I'm pretty sure that you know just as much about my day as I know myself."

Bug grunted and hit a few buttons on his keyboard. Three of the monitors switched scenes. "Maybe I do. Maybe I don't. It's rude to just assume, though. And don't call me 'Abe', numb nuts. That's rude, too."

"Some people might say it's also rude to spy on people by using a drone," Bern said. He'd actually spotted more than one, but it never hurt to hold something back with Bug.

Bug blew a raspberry. "Some people like Leif Magnusson movies."

"My sister _loves_ Leif Magnusson movies," Bern said.

He could tell Bug wanted to ask 'which one?', while also not wanting to admit that he didn't already know. In theory, of course, Bern's family was strictly off-limits to Bug (or rather: Nevada-the-Major's-girlfriend's family was), unless their security was involved.

In practice, Bug soaked up every bit of knowledge he could find. At this point, he probably knew more about Bern's youth than Bern actually remembered himself, or wanted to remember.

Bug scowled. "Fine, ass chomp. Some people like Gabriella Jones movies."

"This is true, and one of life's many mysteries," Bern admitted. "So?"

"So who cares, fuck wit? Some people do this, some people do that. Some people think this, some people think that. Some people are stupid. Lots of people are stupid. You're you, I'm me. If you thought me keeping an eye on you by drone was rude, screw you. You're not the boss of me."

"This is also true." Bern walked to the small fridge and got himself some bottled water. Bug almost never had anything else. Coffee would probably leave him bouncing off the ceiling, unable to even sit in his chair. The same went for most soft drinks. "So how did you think my day was?"

Bug's scowl deepened. "Classes! What century are these morons even living in, the Middle Ages? You could be attending university from right here. Then I wouldn't be alone all day, either. And it'd make it a lot cheaper, too, for people to get a higher education. Just get a good server and they could have as many students as they want. Get rid of the buildings. Cut costs. Fuck books."

"It's not as simple as that," Bern said. "But thanks. It's very sweet that you missed me. I'm touched."

Bug growled. Napoleon's ears twitched, but he didn't growl back. "I never said I missed you, fart brain. I was busy. I was trying to be nice. Polite. Social. Welcome home, honey, how was your day? Like that. Relationship rubbish."

"I miss being normal sometimes," Bern said.

Bug barked a laugh. Napoleon sighed and curled up on the floor, judging the chance of any more dog biscuits too small to bother.

"All right, maybe not 'normal' normal, but - " Bern hesitated, searching for the right words. "Before we were suddenly responsible for having saved the whole city. When we were just a detective agency." _When I used to sit in my Hut of Evil and feel like there was no secret I couldn't uncover, no network I couldn't hack, given time. No encryption code I couldn't break, if I really tried._

"Your mother sucked," Bug said. "You could've turned out way worse. Like me, but not me. I like you better as you are. You're lucky. Like I was lucky, but different. I got lucky because of the Major. You got lucky because of your family."

"What about your family?" Bern had been tempted, to look for them. To look for _Bug_. In a way, it felt like fair play, given that Bug felt no compunction about digging up anything he could find about Bern, and lots of things that were only peripherally connected to Bern - like what the first girl he'd ever kissed was doing right now (breeding dogs), or where the ingredients for his favorite food came from (everywhere except the US), or how working conditions were in the factory that had made his shirt (about average).

"They got the money," Bug said. "Now I don't owe them anymore. My real family's right here. Duck fuckers. Some of them think I swear too much, so I try to do better. Family's important."

"Yes, it is." Bern wondered if he should bring up the drones again. They hadn't bothered him; he had nothing to hide, and if anything unexpected happened, Bug might be in a better position to call for help than Bern himself might be.

On the other hand, if family was important, boundaries were important, too. Bern wasn't sure whether or not this was a boundary he wanted Bug to feel it was all right to cross, by Bern's implicit or explicit permission.

_I probably shouldn't wait too long to make up my mind. Still, a few days should be okay._

"So what are you working on?" he asked.

Bug grinned. "Wouldn't you like to know? I'm not going to tell you simply because you ask, ass chair."

"Why 'ass chair'?" _Do I really want to know why?_

"You put down your ass in a chair," Bug said. "Obviously. Like how you use your dick to fuck. Unless you don't have one, of course, because you're a woman, or don't want to, because you don't like dicks or whatever. Not important."

"Speaking of chairs," said Bern. Bug appeared to be occupying the only one in the room.

"People come in and steal them when I'm not looking, which is often, because I have to watch the monitors. I can't watch the chairs, too. Well, I could, but - oh, wait, I think someone borrowed a couple for a meeting or something, or maybe it was to build something." Bug frowned. "I feel too safe here."

"Safe is good, though," Bern said.

"I guess." Bug didn't look convinced. 

Bern considered going hunting for a chair. There had to be some around somewhere, possibly as close as next door. _The question is, will someone scary come after me if I take them without tracking down someone to ask permission first?_

Bug's expression brightened. "Sex is definitely better when you don't need to worry about the other guy trying to kill you. When you're safe, you only need to worry they're going to think homework and classes are more important than sex. Which they do. A lot more often than you'd think."

"You need to work sometimes, too," Bern pointed out.

Bug huffed. "The Major's an important person. He makes me do important work. Right now, I'm just sitting on my ass, though. If someone would ask me to have sex, I wouldn't tell them that I had to do something else. That wouldn't be nice or polite."

"How about if someone would ask you to have dinner with them?"

Bug considered. "Maybe. What are they offering if I say 'yes'?"

"Nothing," Bern said. "Absolutely nothing at all."

"That's not a very good offer. I could eat right here, with Napoleon for company."

"Your choice," Bern said, taking a few steps in the direction of the door.

"Bug fucker!" Bug said, and followed him.


End file.
